


In the After

by JudeAraya



Category: Glee
Genre: Communication, Firsts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 18,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after that first kiss? Kurt and Blaine navigate communicating with each other and their friends and families as their relationship unfolds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ache

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be trying to write a complete story out of drabbles every day using the prompt words (sometimes it will be inspiration brought by the word) from the Klaine Advent Challenge. This is absolutely me flying by the seat of my pants. Rating is flexible.

“Bye Dad!" Kurt called over his shoulder as he darted out the door.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, get your butt back in here kid,” Burt grabbed the door before it could shut, then ushered Kurt back in. 

“Dad,” Kurt huffed, smoothing the drape of his scarf: mist grey shot with silver to make his eye pop. Hopefully Blaine would notice. If he didn’t, Kurt might kill him. ”I’m going to be late!” 

“Late for where exactly?” Burt asked. 

Kurt flicked his eyes away and swallowed. “Just, you know,” he gestured, “out.” 

“Out with who, exactly?” Oh god his dad was using that _tone_. 

“What is this the third degree?” Kurt had to bite his lip but it was too late. Being sassy had touch and go results in Kurt’s life, and yet he could never seem to help himself. 

“It is now,” Burt crossed his arms. Kurt did too, meeting his stare. They looked at each other for a long, silent minute. 

“Okay, okay,” Kurt threw his hands up. “I’m going out to dinner with Blaine.” 

“Huh,” Burt looked away and seemed to be trying to suppress a smile. 

“...so?” Kurt finally asked when he couldn’t take it any more. 

“So is this a date kind of thing?” Burt asked. Kurt clasped his hands and tried not to smile too big when he nodded. He wasn’t sure how his dad might take the whole Blaine from best friend to Blaine to boyfriend thing, but that glimmer of a smile had told him everything he needed to know. 

“But I don’t want to be late and--” 

“Yeah, nope,” Burt took him by the arms and turned him away from the door, then set him down on the couch. “If this is a date, we have to talk.” 

“ _Dad_ ,” Kurt groaned, feeling his stomach clench. “Please do not tell me we have to have one of _those_ talks _right now._ ” 


	2. Balance

“Does it need to be?” Burt said with frank look a little too piercing for Kurt’s comfort.

“Oh my god, no,” Kurt exclaimed. He flattened his palms to the knees of his pants, the distressed black denim ones he rarely wore out they were so tight. He was far from ready for lots of things -- more than the hesitant kisses they’d exchanged to be honest -- but he didn’t mind the way Blaine sometimes looked at him. He’d been waiting for Blaine to notice him like that for so long, he was reveling in it, just a little. 

“We’ve only kissed,” he admitted, completely aware that his face was heating with embarrassment and also a pleased sort of preen. His dad just looked at him then for a while, making the flush deepen. 

But then his dad smiled and clapped a hand down on Kurt’s knee. “God, you’re getting to be so grown up,” he said. “First kiss?” he said, conspiratorially. Kurt swallowed, thinking of the fine line between honesty he shared with his father, but also the truths he kept quiet -- to protect Karofsky, yes, but also his father. 

“Yes,” he said, not looking up. Blaine was the first kiss that mattered, after all. 

“I wish your mom were here,” Burt said. Kurt leaned against his dad. “This is the kind of stuff you probably would have shared with her, you know?” 

“Maybe,” Kurt said. Telling his dad seemed weird, a little uncomfortable. Not bad, but squirmy. 

“I’m assuming this isn’t your first date, though?” Burt said then. 

“Well, no, not exactly,” Kurt admitted. “But it’s only the second, it’s not like this isn’t new news. I was just...getting used to it?” 

“Okay,” Burt said slowly, thinking. “Well then, I think if this is going to be a thing, ya know, you and Blaine...dating, or boyfriends or whatever--” 

“Boyfriends,” Kurt interrupted, resisting the urge to do that kicky-feet thing he always did when he thought of it privately. 

“Okay, boyfriends,” Burt said. “We’re gonna need to set up ground rules.” 

“Dad,” Kurt said, looking at him pleadingly. 

“Not those kind,” But explained, then gave Kurt another one of his looks. “For now anyway,” he said, half under his breath. “I meant another kind.” 

“What kind?” Kurt said, half curious, half trepidatious. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll think about it.” 

“Oh...kay,” Kurt said. “So can I go? I’ll be late to the movie.” He stood and resisted the urge to go check his hair one more time. He really was late, and didn’t want to leave Blaine at the theater waiting for him. 

“Well talk when you get home,” Burt said. 

“Alright,” Kurt responded. Now that he knew it wasn’t going to be one of…those talks, he didn’t feel half as nervous.


	3. Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: cloud

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, trying not to breathe heavily. He didn't want Blaine to know he’d sprinted from his car to the theater. He did have an air of sophistication to keep up. He’d had to repair his hair in the car: thank goodness he kept a spare can of hairspray in the console for all hair emergencies.

“Why?” Blaine asked, smile bright. 

“For being late,” Kurt replied. “My dad...well I’ll have to tell you about it later, I don’t want to miss the previews, I know how much you love that part.” 

Blaine waved off the apology. “Thank you. You look wonderful, Kurt.” 

“Oh, well, thank you,” Kurt said, feeling the warm flush of praise bloom under his skin. He looked Blaine over; he was always handsome in his uniform, but honestly it did little to show off his lovely frame and compact body. The sweater vest he was wearing accentuated his trim waist and Kurt _knew_ those pants would make his butt look incredible. Blaine had a fantastic ass. Not that he let himself look. That much. “You look amazing, as always.” 

There was a beat where they both stood in the lobby then, the kind of awkwardness between two people who haven’t learned to bridge the gaps in conversation yet. As friends, they had this down pretty well. As boyfriends...well. Everything felt so _fraught_. 

“So,” Blaine broke the silence at last. People were streaming into the lobby in chattering groups, voices and clothes and bodies tumbling in the bright cacophony of a Friday night out. “Shall we?” 

This might be new territory, but Kurt knew Blaine’s temperament well enough to know that could he, he would have offered Kurt his arm. They both knew that Kurt would take it. 

It wasn’t hard to sit through a good movie with Blaine. He was the best sort of audience: he didn’t try to talk to Kurt during the movie, he appreciated all of the wittiest parts, and best of all, he loved dissecting wardrobe afterwards. 

What was hard was the afterward part. The saying goodbye part. With Blaine coming from Dalton, it only made sense for them to meet at the theater. Saying goodbye in a parking lot was a necessity, but the most unromantic date ending situation possible. Although, when Kurt thought about it, definitely less.... _fraught_. 

Because a private goodbye would mean something else entirely. Not just the possibility of more than a hug. Sure they’d kissed...three times precisely. And it was wonderful. Heavenly. Awkward when it wasn’t spur of the moment too. Otherwise the seconds leading up to it were breathless with roiling warmth and frantic internal monologue of _oh god is he going to kiss me_ , and _oh god should I kiss him_ , or _oh god am I doing this right?_

For an atheist, Kurt sure did invoke god quite a bit when faced with the potential and reality of Blaine’s kisses. How could he help it, when faced with Blaine’s lips, his fingers sort on Kurt's face, and oh, _oh/i >, tongue? _

No matter right now. By Kurt’s car, too aware of the people leaving at the same time as they, they settled for a brief hug and a furtive hand squeeze that lasted long enough to maybe, strictly speaking, be considered hand holding. In the absence of more, it was positively titillating. The way Blaine looked at him, right into his eyes -- his dark in the hushed night, backlit by streetlights -- left Kurt vibrating, skin prickling and stomach knotted, caught between cloud nine happiness and the terror of not quite knowing what to do. 

But Blaine’s eyes...well there might be boys out there strong enough to resist (Kurt severely doubted this), but he wasn’t one. With a darted look around the lot, sheltered by the steady hulk of his car, he darted forward to kiss Blaine’s cheek. Maybe technically not quite his cheek, just on the corner of his mouth, and then smiled so big he had to bite his lip to tamp it down, lest he look a fool, whispering a tremulous goodnight. 


	4. Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No beta, no worries? No, lots. Cause I suck at finding my own typos.

Kurt let himself into the house quietly. His weekend curfew was eleven and sometimes his father was asleep by then. Kurt knew how lucky he was to have a dad that trusted him to be responsible. Unfortunately, that night wasn’t such a night.

“How’d it go?” Burt said when Kurt walked past the family room, surprising him.

“Dad,” Kurt said, hand over his startle-beating heart. Basking in the glow of his date had been the first priority on his agenda. Having whatever talk his father had said they needed to have was the last. “You’re up late.”

“Well I wanted to be sure to catch you,” his father responded.

Kurt sighed, resigned, and walked over, perching on the edge of the couch across from his father’s recliner. “Do we really have to do this now?”

“Look Kurt, I’ll be honest. I just wanted to be sure you got home alright.”

“Don’t I always?” Kurt asked.

His dad didn’t say anything for a long moment. Kurt tried not to fidget. His dad didn’t look upset, just thoughtful.

“I think if you and Blaine are going to do this thing, if you’re serious, that he should come to Friday night dinner.”

“Really?” Kurt said. Finn was never allowed guests for family dinner. Kurt never had either.

“Yes. I think I want to talk to you both,” Burt responded.

“Oh my god Dad, please please tell me you aren’t planning on embarrassing me with a...one of those--oh my _god_ ,” Kurt stammered, covering his face as horror bloomed in his stomach.

“Aw, stop being so dramatic kid,” Burt said. “I just wanna talk to you, I promise I won’t do anything to embarrass you.” He thought for a moment then added, “Well maybe just a little. Gotta let your old man have some fun.”

“If we must have this talk, does it really have to wait?”

“Kind of a drive for him during the week for dinner, don’t you think?” Burt pointed out.

“Okay,” Kurt conceded. “Would you consider telling me what ‘this talk’ is about?”

“Being safe,”

“ _Dad!_ I thought you said--”

“Jeez kid, don’t give yourself aneurysm, I don’t mean that kind of safety talk.” Burt leveled a look at Kurt. “I mean being careful when you’re out. Taking care of yourselves.”

“Dad,” Kurt said softly. “We know.”

“I know you think you do. And it kills me that I even have to talk to you boys about this. But things are different when you’re dating someone. When you’re young and things are new. You might find this hard to believe, but I remember being your age, how it feels and easy it can be to get carried away--”

“Dad, I promise,” Kurt said, leaning forward to put a hand on his father’s knee. His father’s face reflected a sadness Kurt felt at having to have this conversation at all. “There’s nothing like that right now. And we know.”

They looked at each other in the quiet of a house almost settled for the night.

“That might be true, right now. But I think it’s important to sit you both down so we can work out ground rules,” Burt insisted. Kurt wasn’t quite sure what rules his dad planned on working out with them, but knew it was no use pressing for now. Not when his dad clearly wanted to have a conversation _with_ them, not _at_ them.

“Okay. I’ll ask him to dinner,” Kurt said, patting his father’s knee one last time before standing. Burt struggled to get the footrest of his chair down and stand up in time to catch Kurt in a hug.

“I love ya bud, you know that right?”

Kurt smiled into his father’s shoulder. “I love you too.”

“Alright then,” Burt pulled away. “Don’t look so sad. You had a nice date right? That’s the important part.”

“Yes.” Kurt swallowed and then nodded. Blaine washed in the ink night and yellow street lamps was clear in his mind; the lingering scent of his hair gel and aftershave, intimate details Kurt was only just now learning, still flickered yearning inside.

There was a lot wrong with the world, but nothing wrong with that, not with the way the memories made him feel; the way Blaine made him feel.

“Night Kurt,” his dad said at last, squeezing his shoulder.

“Night,” Kurt turned and watched Burt climb the stairs with the tired but steady steps he always seemed to take.

#

 _Dad wants to invite you to Friday night dinner_ Kurt texted Blaine once he was in bed. It was already midnight, but Blaine was probably still preparing for bed since the drive back to Dalton was longer. Kurt switched off his bedside lamp and snuggled back, pulling his blankets up. The pitch black pressed around him, snugly comforting. When his phone vibrated with a text, the light of the screen popping to life seemed more jarring, casting chiaroscuro shadows.

 _Wow. I feel like this is an honor that requires an acceptance speech ;)_ Blaine texted back. Kurt didn’t try to bite back his grin.

 _Don’t let it get to your head,_ Kurt typed quickly,  _he wants to have a *talk* with us_.

There was a drawn out pause.

 _Kurt, please tell me it’s not going to be *that* kind of talk_. Although Kurt knew that Blaine would jump to that conclusion -- after all he had too -- it felt like even the vague allusion to _things_ made him blush deeply.

_No, I don’t think so._

_That’s not very comforting,_ Blaine responded.

_I think it will be okay. I’ll explain more in the morning. I’ll call?_

_Alright._ Blaine said, then,  _I’m still nervous though_.

 _Me too,_ Kurt admitted.  _Will it help if I promise to make my chocolate raspberry cheesecake?_

 _Done and done,_ came the immediate reply. Kurt yawned, stretching his body, toes the seeking cool, untouched corner of his bed under the sheets.

_Alright, I must get my beauty sleep now. Goodnight!_

_You’re beautiful without it. But I think I need some myself_. Kurt rolled his eyes but smiled.

_You’re handsome and dapper at all times, you know. But thank you :D._

Kurt chased the shiver of nerves at the admission. Admiring Blaine in silence was a long learned habit; getting to do it opening was both thrilling and terrifying. _Thank you._ Blaine replied. Kurt turned to plug his phone in and lay it on his nightstand when it lit again with a final text.

 _XOXO_. Kurt let that final touch of sweetness curl up inside, happiness radiating into the dark, and texted the same back.


	5. Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta, yet again.

Friday took its time coming. Kurt didn’t get to see Blaine during the week -- they were both busy with school and balancing Glee, family commitments and Burt’s sudden need for help at the garage. Although they spent plenty of time on the phone each evening, going through bedtime moisturizing routines, there was only so much they could say about Burt’s talk to come. Partly from a lack of information, but mostly borne of a shyness regarding the potential direction of the proposed discussion. It was a mutually unspoken acknowledgement that there were aspects of a future intimacy that neither was ready to address just yet.

Friday -- at five precisely -- Blaine showed up at the door bearing a bouquet of daisies, turned out in a crisp button up and bowtie, hair even more regimented than usual.

“Hi,” Kurt whispered, a little breathless in the best way, the way only Blaine made him feel. No one was around just yet -- his dad was late from the shop and Carol busy in the kitchen, Finn in his room battering his drumset, so he dared a kiss to Blaine’s cheek before taking his coat.

“Hi,” Blaine’s lashes swept down, a bashful smile lighting his face. “I missed -- I mean it’s nice to see you,” he looked back up at Kurt. That swooping thing, that delicious tindering in his belly swept up Kurt’s spine. He reached out for Blaine’s hand, and then pulled him toward the kitchen.

“These are lovely, by the way,” Kurt said when Blaine handed him the flowers. “I’ll go find a vase.” He left Blaine in Carol’s care in the kitchen; behind him he heard Blaine’s offer to help and smiled, then buried his face in the flowers. They were so cheerful, the perfect choice to accent their kitchen table.

Despite the underlying anxiety simmering between both Kurt and Blaine, dinner seems to go off without a hitch. Kurt knew that Blaine was still unsure of his footing with his father, a hold out from his incredibly strange but well meant conversation about educating Kurt about sex.

Kurt struggled to understand how it was that Blaine could offer so candidly to speak to him about sex, and to speak to his father about it, but blush incredibly attractively when that third kiss had gotten a little...heated. He would ask, but Kurt was under no illusion that he was ready to talk about anything more than kisses with Blaine. He could hardly bring himself to initiate them, no matter how acutely he longed for them. The tender crook of his elbow was much easier to approach.

“Kurt this cheesecake is positively sinful,” Carol declared. “I really shouldn’t eat more.”

“I’ve got it,” Finn said, mouth full of said dessert, scraping what was left of her helping off her plate before anyone could assure her that she absolutely could.

“It’s great,” Burt said. Kurt appreciated the support -- cheesecake was not his father’s favourite dessert, but he always made an effort to try Kurt’s offerings and to encourage them. Especially when they were unhealthy, because Kurt and Carol so carefully monitored (nagged) his food intake.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, then wiped his mouth carefully. He didn’t miss the meaningful look Burt and Carol shared.

“Finn, come on, time to do the dishes,” Carol said.

“What? It’s Kurt’s turn,” Finn protested, mouth still full of cheesecake.

“You’re trading weeks,” Carol said firmly. “Come on, no arguments.” Kurt sent Finn an apologetic look. Now that the time was at hand, his stomach was knotted with anxiety. And cheesecake.

Blaine helped clear the table, and then when there was nothing else they could do to stall, followed Burt into the family room. Blaine was careful to keep a respectable distance between them when they sat on the sofa. Kurt didn’t miss his father’s smirk.

“Alright boys,” Burt began. “I know you’re nervous, and I’m not exactly thrilled to be having to have this conversation, but it needs to be done.”

“Okay,” Kurt said. A quick glance to the side showed that Blaine was gripping his hands nervously. He really wanted to take one and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“I want to start out and say that I’m happy for you both,” Burt said. “We were all waiting for it to happen -- took longer than I thought it would,” he sent a look to Blaine, making him fidget, “but now that you’re there, I want to make sure that you’re both taking precautions to be safe.”

“What...” Kurt swallowed, “exactly do you mean?”

“This is Ohio. I think we all know that you have to be careful with how you conduct yourselves in public.”

“Mr. Hummel --”

“Burt.”

“Um, okay. Um--” Blaine shot Kurt a distressed look. Kurt tamped down the urge to smile at the thought of Blaine trying to call his dad by his first name. “Well. I want you to know that Kurt and I are aware of this, and I promise you--”

“Look,” Burt interrupted. Concern was clear on his face, as was determination. “Things are new now. And if I know my kid, based on his reaction to what we’ve talked about, ya know, sex, that this probably isn’t a concern right now.”

Kurt resisted the urge to cover his ears, and the wish to disappear into the couch. “No Dad, it’s really not.”

“Okay. But still. If things -- if you boys stay together -- I think it needs to be said that eventually things might change.”

Blaine sqirmed on the couch next to him.

“Now, you don’t have to tell me anything you want to ever,” Burt explained, “But I want you to know you can come talk to me about anything, okay?”

A silence so thick crickets could have been heard, if it were summer, through the walls.

“But for now, I want to be clear. You need to be careful. Make sure you’re thinking of your safety first.”

“Yes sir,” Blaine managed to squeak out.

“Burt,” his father corrected again, patiently. Blaine nodded.

“I recognize that I can’t tell you what to do, but I want to be clear. No parking. No...foolin' around in movie theaters or whatever it is kids do today.”

Kurt wondered if it was possible to explode from dangerously high levels of mortification. He didn’t dare look at Blaine.

“You both strike me as romantic, old fashioned kids,” Burt said with a smile. “A kiss goodnight seems like that sort of thing. Carol and I agreed that it might be wise to grant you a certain level of privacy.”

 _What?_ Kurt’s addled mind provided him.

“When you come home from dates, if Blaine escorts you, you can have a private goodbye, _inside_ the house. If we’re asleep, I’m going to trust you boys to respect limits.”

Kurt didn’t dare ask what those limits might be. He had a clear enough idea and _really_ didn’t want to take the conversation farther into dying of embarrassment territory.

“You can hang out in Kurt’s room. With an open door. We’ll try to afford you as much privacy as we think is appropriate, so long as you respect what will be considered appropriate behavior.”

Beside him, Blaine seemed on the verge of very quiet hyperventilation. Kurt was sure he had never felt himself go so pale, which was saying quite a lot.

“If I feel like we need to, or you do, we can revisit this conversation. I meant what I said. You both are welcome to come talk to me. I know that right now you’re probably thinking it’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever do that, but the offer is on the table.”

Kurt managed to nod.

“Alright. I think that about does it for the embarrassing you both portion of the evening.” Burt slapped his hands down on the armrest of his chair as if to get up. “Unless, Blaine, you’d like to look at baby pictures of Kurt.”

“Oh god, Dad, no,” Kurt moaned.

“Um, I don’t--” Blaine stuttered, ”maybe another day sir.”

Burt laughed softly. “It’s Burt kid. Get to working on it, ‘kay?”

“I’ll do my best sir,” Blaine said, a little blankly. Now that it was over, he managed to look at Kurt. He was positive he’d never seen that look on Blaine’s face and wondered if his own was doing the same thing.

After Burt left, they sat next to each other for what felt like an interminable length of time. Kurt wondered who would crack first, fervently hoping it would be Blaine. When he didn’t, Kurt finally had to bite the bullet, took a fortifying breath, and turned to him.

“That was…”

“I don’t even have words,” Blaine said.

“I, um. There’s stuff, I mean--”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” Blaine hurried to say. “If that’s okay? I- I mean if you want to--”

“No! No, I think maybe tonight was...enough. For now.”

“Okay,” Blaine said, closing his eyes, shoulders slumping with relief.

“So…” Kurt said, after eyeing the clock on the wall. “You don’t have to head home for a little bit. Would you like to stay? We can, um,” Kurt frantically searched for an activity they could do in full view of his family because it was just too soon to appear like they were contemplating thinking about approaching anything his dad had said. “Play a game? Watch a movie down here?”

Blaine gave him a small smile, a look that was new to him, affection that was shaded with romance and not just friendship, “Yes. Sure, a game sounds great.”


	6. Fall

“Hey bud, can I come in?” his father appeared in Kurt’s doorway just as he was finishing pre-bed skincare routine.

“Sure,” Kurt turned to face him fully. “What’s going on Dad?” 

“I, uh,” Burt wandered in, picked up a framed photo on Kurt’s shelf then put it back down in the wrong place. “I heard you boys laughing. You know, earlier.” 

Kurt pressed his hands between his knees and smiled. “We were having fun.” 

“Teaching him to play Hell?” 

“Teaching him to loose at it, you mean?” Kurt said with a raised brow his dad smirked at. 

“Haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time Kurt,” his dad said, sitting at the edge of the bed. 

“Blaine makes me feel…” Kurt trailed off, tried not to blush too much when he thought of Blaine; of how Blaine could make him weak with laughter and with nerves, wobbling with breathless longing and in the aftershocks of a kiss. Not that he’d gotten to do _that_ recently. Residual embarrassment due to the talk with his dad would take more than a night to wear off. 

“You falling for him Kurt?” his dad asked after the silence spun out for too long. 

Kurt smiled, head tilted and heart so full. “I think I did about five minutes after I met him.” 

Burt’s eyebrows lifted. “You sayin’ you feel for now him like how you felt then?” 

“Well,” Kurt thought it over. “No. Not at all. Getting to know him and everything since then...but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been.” He feels sure; sure of the way his heart can beat with so many people held treasured in it, sure that Blaine’s been one of them for some time now. 

“No it doesn’t, you’re right,” Burt acknowledged. “But it changes. You’ll be surprised son, how many ways you can love someone in your life.” 

Kurt sighed and knew he thought of his mother when his father did; they shared a smile that ached with so many things -- memory and loss and the now intangible essence of a woman so treasured. 

“Loving someone isn’t always going to be about these amazing new feelings and laughter and romance. Loving someone… _really_ loving them, is about persistence. It’s about faith.” 

Kurt looked down, smoothed his fingers over the fabric of his pants. What he felt for Blaine...it felt huge sometimes. Untested and unmapped, a shape he hadn’t quite traced. And he wanted that, wanted the charting of those edges, but what his father was talking about felt so much bigger. Daunting and _real_. 

“Look son,” Burt said, “I just wanted to tell you, it’s okay to take your time. Enjoying it. Falling in love, being with him.” 

“I am Dad,” Kurt assured him. 

“Good,” Burt stood to leave. At the door he turned back and smiled, the well worn gruff smile Kurt knew so well. “It’s really nice Kurt. To hear you laughing like that.” 

Kurt held his gaze and blinked hard. “It’s nice to laugh like that,” he said softly.


	7. Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not mean to write this much and now I am out of time which means I have to post and run....so watch out for typos.

“I can’t do it Kurt,” Blaine said, so low Kurt could barely hear him over the hum of the music.

“Can’t do what?” Kurt asked, licking his lips and trying to figure out what that feeling in his stomach was. 

There they were. On Kurt’s driveway. It was 10:45 at night; like a gentleman Blaine had gotten Kurt home before curfew with fifteen minutes to spare. Kurt very, _very_ much wanted to spare them somewhere in between Blaine’s arms. Against his lips. With his own lips. and if the way Blaine had been eyeing Kurt’s lips all night was any indication, they were in the same boat. Well, car. 

“Kurt,” Blaine groaned dramatically. 

The only thing standing between this moment and potential bliss was his father’s injunction. 

“Okay,” Kurt turned to Blaine and spoke fast, “he did say privacy right?” 

“But he’ll _know_ ,” Blaine said, forehead against the steering wheel. 

“What if we’re really quiet?” Kurt tried. 

“Kurt, I wasn’t planning on filming a porno, how loud can a few kisses get?” Blaine said. 

“ _Blaine_!” Kurt turned away and resisted the urge to open the window to cool his face. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just--” Blaine started. 

“Okay, well wait,” Kurt interrupted. “He said no parking right?” 

“Uh yeah?” 

“Well, I mean, technically, is it ‘parking’ if you’re on your own driveway?” Kurt reasoned. 

“We’ll still be parked,” Blaine insisted. 

“Semantics,” Kurt waved this off, aiming for insouciant. With he way his voice shook and the incredible blush staining his cheeks, he felt it was probably a total loss. 

“I don’t want your dad to kill me before I’ve ever even gotten to kiss your ear,” Blaine said, earnest little frown too seriously adorable for Kurt’s admittedly low Blaine-threshold. 

“You want to kiss my ear?” Kurt said. Well, squeaked really. 

“Kurt,” Blaine took his hand, “I _really_ want to kiss your ear. And nose. Lips,” his eyes lingered on them and Kurt had to gasp in his next breath, “neck. Fingers,” Blaine did then, taking the hand he was holding and kissing the tip of Kurt’s index finger. Kurt had to close his eyes and bite down on his own lip, _hard_ , to keep from making what would have been the most embarrassing noise ever. 

“Was that too much?” Blaine asked a second later, about 13 seconds before Kurt thought he might be pulled together enough to start breathing normally, and 45 before his brain might begin operating at rational levels again. 

“No,” Kurt whispered. _Oh look,_ he thought faintly, _speech_. He followed this with, “Not enough.” 

Well rationality had it’s own drawbacks, right? 

For one, if he was thinking rationally, Blaine wouldn’t be kissing him at that very moment. Kissing him very gently, as if testing Kurt out. Waiting. Which he hardly had to do because all that finger kissing had certainly done it’s work -- with the rational faculties of his brain obliterated, so also it seemed, had been the ones that registered nervous uncertainty. Once that was gone it was but the work of a moment to take the sweet brush of Blaine’s lips and turn it into something much, much hungrier. 

Before he knew it, Blaine’s head was cradled in one of Kurt’s palms; their mouths were unpracticed, kisses a little sloppy with uncoordinated movement and panting breaths and the logistics of trying to kiss someone like you might die without while meeting over the console of a car. 

“Kurt,” Blaine finally pulled away. His lips grazed Kurt’s cheek, leaving a smudge of damp that maybe should have been gross but actually only brought to the forefront of Kurt’s brain the reality that he was so turned on it was almost alarming. 

“What?” he said and wriggled, hoping at the very least to keep his lap from Blaine’s view. 

“You have--” Blaine cut off with a high whine of surprise when Kurt’s mouth found his ear. “Oh, god,” he finished weakly, then gripped Kurt’s shoulders, angled his head and shuddered _hard_ when Kurt kept kissing. Kissed his ear and behind it and at the edge of his hair. Down into the redolent bowl under his hear and then his neck and it was just a _neck_ , for crying out loud, how was kissing it so incredibly….erotic? 

Kurt pulled away with a gasp, suddenly enough that Blaine pitched forward. 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Kurt patted Blaine’s head and tried to remember what breathing was, trying to stare into space while Blaine struggled with what sounded like a similar problem. 

Until space defined itself, through the resolution of his faculties, as the glowing digits of the dashboard informing him that he was ten minutes past curfew. 

“Oh god, Blaine, _crap_ ,” Kurt fumbled with the seat belt he was somehow still strapped into, “I’m late, sorry, I’ll call you!” he blew him a kiss as he slammed the door. The ten paces it took to get to the door were not nearly enough for him to pull himself together. Which he probably needed, were his dad to see him. 

Then again, he did have a better chance of avoiding that having to be a problem if he managed to get in before his dad noticed he was late. 

Kurt opened the door as quietly as he could; the hall lights were off, so he breathed a sigh of relief, then padded up the stairs without turning that light on either. 

Unfortunately, his bedroom light was on. 

Kurt straightened his shirt and checked the fit of his pants, but everything was good to go there; the mere knowledge that his dad was in his room waiting was more than enough to calm certain things -- like his dick -- even if they made the errant thumping of his heart worse. “Um,” Kurt peeked in. His dad was sitting on the side of his bed, waiting for him. Kurt cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I know I’m a few minutes late, we--” 

“I’m going to stop you there kiddo,” Burt said, then stood. “I don’t know if you’re gonna try to feed me some line about being late, or confess about necking in the car, but I don’t want to hear either right now.” 

Kurt looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor. Dug his toes into the carpet and wondered what he was supposed to say. 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I think I get it. It’s weird. But I meant what I said, and I expect you to respect that. We’ll call this a grace period. No penalties for breaking the rules while we all adjust. But as of your next date, grace is over. Got it?” 

Kurt nodded, thankfulness a sweet balm. His body could only handle so much right now, additional stress was very much not needed. “Yes. I promise. I’m sorry Dad.” 

“Okay. Night bud.” His dad stepped around him then stopped at the door. “Oh and Kurt, you might want to make sure you get enough of that...um, moisturizer stuff on tonight. Your face looks a little, uh,” Burt smirked, “chaffed.”


	8. Harmony

_But I wanted to kiss *your* ear_ , Blaine texts him later that night.

That lovely fizzle in Kurt's stomach becomes a little hotter. In the cradle of dark Kurt can let himself feel borderless, let that spark burn through and through, burn away the nerves and chatter, the constraints of his unpracticed body -- of a self unpracticed in embodying desires. In that harmony, Kurt remembers the soft round lobe of Blaine’s ear against his lips. 

It was a simple touch with nothing simple in its effects, and the thought of a memory soon to be, a memory to be made -- Blaine’s lips on his ear -- ignition and then wildfire, wildfire, wildfire, Kurt’s body burning bright.


	9. Imprint

“Okay, so the car was maybe not the best choice,” Kurt said the next day.

“Hm?” Blaine looked up from his steaming coffee. 

“Dad was waiting for me,” Kurt said. Blaine closed his eyes and groaned. 

“Please tell me he didn’t--” 

“Oh no he did,” Kurt said. He’d had enough time to be almost past his embarrassment. Blaine’s wasn’t a balm, exactly, but it was nice to share the burden. Especially when it brought that expression to Blaine’s face. 

“You didn’t tell me this last night! Did you try the semantics argument on him?” 

“No Blaine,” Kurt said in a low hiss, “he was saying things about necking! And me looking chafed!” 

“Oh no, _nonono,_ ” Blaine covered his face. “Are you- we in a lot of trouble?” 

“No, thank god,” Kurt said, then bumped Blaine’s shin with his foot under the table. His own coffee was finally cool enough not to scald the inside of his mouth. “He said he knew how weird this feels, so he gave us a one time pass,” he shrugged a shoulder as elegantly as he could manage. He’d had the night to think and calm down -- well once he’d cleared his mind of the distracting burn of Blaine’s kisses and skin against his lips. 

“Kurt,” Blaine leaned forward and whispered, “I just...can I tell you something?” 

“Of course,” Kurt whispered back, wanting to take Blaine’s hand. But they were at the Lima Bean and it was bustling with patrons. 

“I really...I just want- _I just want to kiss you_ ,” he said it so quietly Kurt almost didn’t catch it. “Like, all the time.” 

There was something incredibly endearing in Blaine's wide eyes. It was a look Kurt hadn’t learned yet to guard himself from. 

“Me too,” he whispered. His foot pressed against Blaine harder. More insistently. Blaine’s smile was full of secret shared between two in a room of many. Kurt understood them, the weaving threads of want and relief that they were _talking_ this. Because talking probably meant they were more comfortable, and that’s what Kurt wanted the most. Not only because he had a hunch that being easier with Blaine would mean more kisses, but because that roadblock of shy uncertainty had woven something new into their relationship. That friendship, the connection and fun they had with each other had been tinged with an air of not knowing how to navigate each other in new terrain. 

There was something breathlessly delicious about it, yes. Waiting in that hushed pause, for a kiss or a look, for a touch of Blaine’s fingers -- it was something Kurt had looked forward too for a long time. 

Kisses though...well now that he’d had them, it seemed that all he wanted was more. The imprint of Blaine’s mouth against his always seemed to fade in the days between each, and Kurt ached and ached for more. 

It was lovely to know that Blaine wanted that too. Sure, Kurt had an idea he did, but the confirmation was nice, like a held breath seeping slowly from the air between them. 

“So,” Kurt cleared his throat. “I know it’s really uncomfortable, the whole idea of my house and my dad _knowing_ we’ll be kissing, but he had a point.” 

“Oh?” Blaine asked. 

“It’s not like people don’t know where my house is. Even with the move, people have toilet papered it and egged it.” 

“Kurt,” Blaine started. 

“No it’s okay,” Kurt said, wanting to lighten the look on Blaine’s face. “I mean, it’s not, but it could be worse. And it is what it is. But the point--” 

“I get it,” Blaine interrupted. “I do.” 

There was a long pause before Blaine spoke again. 

“So, I guess we’ll have to get used to the idea of me kissing you senseless at your door.” 

“Maybe I’ll be doing that,” Kurt blushed and remembered the way Blaine’s whole body had trembled against his. “Kiss you senseless I mean.” 

“Um,” Blaine shifted. “What if we compromise on a little of both?” 

Kurt looked around. this definitely was not the appropriate place for letting himself get lost in this feeling, or the images of what they could do; the desire for it. But when it came to Blaine, Kurt had always been unable to control his feelings. 

"I think that could definitely be arranged."


	10. Jukebox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd and IDK I am not crazy about this story right now so maybe it shows? I hate writing serial fic! Lol I remember this now.

“Three days and I’ll be home for the summer!” Blaine’s voice sang through the receiver.

“Shut up, don’t brag,” Kurt said, smiling despite himself. He angled his chin and examined the way the light played across his cheeks in the mirror. The blue scarf he’d picked was all wrong. It was too hot for scarves anyway. 

“Don’t be a grinch.” Blaine’s voice was momentarily lost to the sound of wind -- he must have just stepped outside. 

“You know I’m just grouchy about having to spend another week in that hellhole.” Kurt held the phone between his shoulder and ear while he checked to be sure he had his wallet and keys. 

“But, just think, by the time you’re done, I’ll be settled and then we have _weeks_ of summer fun to be had!” 

“Blaine, I swear you’re like a child,” Kurt said, waving to his dad as he passed him on the way down the stairs. 

“Awww, you love me,” Blaine said, and yes, _oh_ , it was lovely to know that playful words were known with truth too. 

“Yes,” Kurt managed to say. The sun was blinding and it was already much too warm for the pants he’d chosen. At least the mall would be cooler. 

“Are you on your way to meet Mercedes?” Blaine asked. He must have heard the slam of the car door through the phone. 

“Yes. She mysteriously needs a whole new wardrobe.” Kurt started the ignition but let the car idle for a bit. The grass was already turning from that bright spring green into the more settled, hardy deep green of summer. 

“I won’t keep you then,” Blaine said. “Other than bragging, I actually called because Kevin told me about this new fifties style diner that opened and I thought maybe we could go. Spice it up a bit, give Breadstix a break. I’ll bring a quarter and you can pick the song on the jukebox.” 

“Oh this sounds intriguing. And I’ll have a paycheck too because I’ve been amusing myself while you were studying by working, so I can pay for a song and for your dinner too!” Kurt said. He adjusted an air vent so that it wouldn’t blow quite on his face and mess up his hair. 

“Don’t be silly, I’ll pay,” Blaine said. 

“I feel bad, you always have to spend gas money--” 

“Not anymore, remember?” Blaine laughed. 

“Right,” Kurt smiled, the wide smile he rarely let people see, the one that was all giddy excitement. “I don’t even know what I’ll do with myself, having you so much closer all the time.” 

“Hmm,” Blaine said, low and a little flirty. “I think I have some ideas.” 

“Oh my god, stop,” Kurt said but couldn’t help laughing. 

“I know, I’m just messing around. Although,” Blaine’s voice got quieter. “Speaking of which--” 

Kurt cleared his throat and looked around as though he thought someone might be listening in. He shook his head. Other than his dad inside the house, potentially wondering why Kurt was smiling like a fool in an idled car, there was no one around. 

“I was thinking, if you wanted to pick me up…” 

“Yes?” Kurt asked, waiting for Blaine to finish the sentence. 

“Well, afterwards...I mean my mom has a thing and--” 

“ _Oh!_ ” Kurt said, getting the picture. His face burned a little in a way he knew had nothing to do with the waxing summer heat. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you for anything,” Blaine rushed to say. “I know that an empty house seems a lot more suggestive than my room here with Kevin always about to come in or your house but I didn’t-- I don’t expect--” 

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupted. “It’s okay. I know. I mean I think I do.” 

“I said the wrong thing didn’t I?” Baine said. 

“No, not at all. This is,” Kurt swallowed and looked at the clock. Damn he was going to be late. He put the car into reverse. “I think we’re on the same page, right?” 

“I think so too,” Blaine said. They both sounded pretty unsure. Kurt sighed. He would much rather be excited about the prospect of dinner and...alone time...with Blaine than nervous. 

“How about if I call you tonight, after the mall, and we can plan our outfits?” Kurt suggested. Clothes never made him nervous, and talking about clothes with Blaine was always fun. “We can talk more then?” 

“Definitely,” Blaine responded. “I’d love that.”


	11. Kindred

“Would you like to come in?” Blaine asked once Kurt eased the car into park. Kurt turned off the engine and felt the edge of too many nerves in the silence.

“Of course,” Kurt said, fingers gripping the steering wheel. 

His hesitation didn't stem from the fact that he didn’t want to go in. It wasn’t that he didn’t want private time with Blaine, because _god_ did he. Somehow the knowledge that the house was empty made him nervous. When he thought of how it felt to kiss Blaine, what it was like the few times they’d _had_ time alone, how his body felt like body felt like a wild horse, thundering ahead toward something his mind was _really_ not ready for. 

Blaine took a breath, then turned and smiled at Kurt, sweet and comforting. The lightweight cardigan he’d worn was the lightest spot in the dark car; he looked so handsome. Handsome enough that it made Kurt’s palms sweat a little. Blaine tilted his head toward the house. “Come on. Let’s go talk.” 

Kurt’s smiled bloomed back. He climbed out of the car and linked hands with Blaine when they met by the hood. 

The inside of Blaine’s house was cool and still. Kurt had only been there a few times, and in the low light of a the lamp on the side table, everything looked unfamiliar. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Blaine asked. Kurt shook his head and squeezed Blaine’s hand. “Let’s go in the family room,” Blaine suggested. The tension in Kurt's stomach uncurled and when he sat next to Blaine on the wine red sofa it only took a few moments to relax into its give. 

“Do you…” Blaine took a deep breath as if to fortify himself, “want to talk about this? Ground rules?” 

“Yes, oh thank god,” Kurt said. 

“Do you want me to go first?” Blaine offered. 

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Kurt said then took a good look at Blaine. He looked younger than usual, nerves playing clearly across his face. “I can go though.” 

Blaine waited patiently, eyes flickering between Kurt’s and his knees. “I...Blaine I really like being with you like--” he lifted a shoulder. “Well you know.” Blaine nodded. “But sometimes I feel a little like I could get carried away. If we were really alone like we are now.” 

“I know what you mean,” Blaine said. 

“And I don’t want you to think I don’t like kissing you and being with you,” Kurt swallowed, “but I’m not really ready for more. Or that much more. I don’t want you to expect--” 

“No, no,” Blaine jumped in. “It’s like I said on the phone, I promise. I don’t. I’m not ready either.” 

“Really?” Kurt said, head titling. 

“Yes. I know that maybe I have been more comfortable talking about certain things in the past, but it just...” Blaine paused and blew out his breath, brow furrowed as he searched for the words. “It’s different when it applies to me. Like, actually happening.” 

“Yes,” Kurt said. It was nice not to feel alone, in nerves or hesitation, to have actual words shared and a path of communication opened where they had been uncertain before. 

“I’d like to enjoy going slow,” Blaine admitted, and the kindred sentiment was a lovely affirmation of Kurt's own feelings. 

“Me too.” Kurt said then shifted a little closer. They were quiet for a moment, Blaine’s body a comforting then increasingly tantalizing warmth next to him. 

“Blaine,” he said finally, then shot Blaine a smile full of mischief and what he hoped read as invitation. “Do you want--” 

“God, yes,” Blaine said, pushing into Kurt’s space, hand on his cheek and lips eager and alive against his.


	12. Legacy

The didn’t hammer out details that night, which Kurt would never complain about. Because there was nothing to complain about when one was being kissed _like this_. Also, luckily, they both seemed to be on the same page about several things such as things that must be avoided because they might lead to _Things_.

For example, laying down. Instead of reclining, Blaine curled his body facing Kurt on the sofa, legs tucked up with toes under Kurt’s legs. it was lovely actually. Blaine was a sweet, light weight like this, tiny and treasurable. His fingers were gentle but also sure when he touched Kurt.

But not anywhere other than his neck and hands; only exposed, safe skin. Because more might lead to _Things_ as well. Kurt was careful too, keeping a palm splayed against Blaine’s back and every now and then running up over Blaine’s arm or shoulder. Blaine’s fingers traced Kurt’s ears, behind them, down his neck and teasingly along the collar of his shirt. Kurt kind of wished he’d worn something with more give. Although it never would have worked as an appropriate outfit for this date, even something with a boatneck. That would slip down a shoulder. That would…

Kurt pulled away, dislodging Blaine’s fingers without saying anything, and turned his attention to Blaine’s ear. Blaine sighed and shuddered into it and made this incredible subvocal noise that shot thrillingly straight through Kurt, hot into his belly and deep in his pelvis. They both turned back into a kiss; a burning, mouths pushed too hard together, body swaying kind of kiss.

As their kisses heated, Blaine’s mouth so insistent and warm-wet and delectable, Kurt could admit that it was awfully tempting to push Blaine back into the cushions, or to cup the knob of a knee and feel the heft of a thigh muscle.

Every time this happened, whenever that need started to crest a little too sharply, Kurt would pull back, the parting of their mouths making a delicious noise, Blaine’s tiny huffed breaths on his lips perfect, perfect. There was such sense of ease, of a stretch of time to enjoy each other after their talk without worry that things might go too far.

They kissed until Kurt’s lips felt wonderfully overused. They kissed and kissed, until even pulling away to breathe and cool off a little couldn’t ease the taxing restraint Kurt was demanding of his body. When Blaine pulled away and kissed the corner of Kurt’s mouth, then chin, peppering little kisses until he reached the space under his ear, everything went from pleasurable to achingly torturous to too much.

Much too close to too much. Before he could stop himself Kurt made a noise, a breathing moaning whining noise, because it was so body shivering good. If Kurt hadn’t pulled away -- completely away, so quickly Blaine tipped forward and had to catch himself -- he probably, very likely, definitely almost would have embarrassed himself by coming in his pants.

“ _Oh god,”_ Kurt put his hands over his burning face then pulled his knees up to curl around them. Without his body so close to Blaine’s, it was obvious how turned on he was. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Blaine’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his lips were shining and tempting and Kurt had to look away, biting his lip and wondering how obvious he’d just been.

Luckily Blaine was much too gentlemanly and discreet to say anything or allude to anything. There was a weird, uncomfortable silence while they both composed themselves, Kurt furiously trying to think the least sexy thoughts possible. Crocs. Slushie facials. His great Aunt Mildred. Well maybe not her; it was hard to think ill of a woman who left him the legacy of some great clothes to re-purpose and a collection of vintage Hermes scarves. Crocs it was then.

Once he’d pulled himself together he peeked over at Blaine, who appeared to have composed himself as well. They shared a shy smile and Kurt scooted a little closer. Blaine looked over at the antique grandfather clock in the corner.

“You have to go in a few minutes,” he said. Kurt looked over at it as well. If he wanted to meet curfew he had to leave in about ten minutes. Kurt let himself loosen a little, scooting down to fit his head in the crook of Blaine’s neck. It was awkward at first, their bodies all angles, but they both shuffled until they were tucked together comfortably, snuggling into each other's sighing breaths. Being with Blaine was many revelations to Kurt -- so many things. One of his favorites was the way his body could let go, the way he could rest his muscles and bones and let himself weigh against Blaine’s body, easy in a way he didn’t let himself be with other people or in the world.

“I had a good time tonight,” he whispered, fingers playing lightly with one button on the cuff of Blaine’s shirt. Blaine shifted, pressing a kiss to the top of Kurt’s head.

“Me too,” he replied just as quietly, letting the ticking of the second hand of the clock count them down until there was no more time left before Kurt had to go. He sent Kurt off with a kiss at the door of his car, the moon yellow and warm, casting shadows and lights all summer softness around them.


	13. Midnight

Kurt would have liked to say that they got to be pretty amazing at making out after that night. However, the truth was that while making out became more and more incredible, _they_ weren’t great at handling how much it affected them. And how often it almost lead to _things_. Kurt was pretty sure that until he could mentally name those _things_ , he wasn’t ready to do them though.

They did try to keep themselves in check. It didn’t take more than a few times for them both to realize that Kurt’s neck was incredibly sensitive. Kissing there -- or even biting lightly, which Blaine had done once -- always escalated Kurt’s arousal to nearly unmanageable states. He could tell that Blaine knew and tried to stay away, but once they got going, they both tended to become a little...unpredictable. 

Blaine seemed to like everything they did, but Kurt had yet to discover an equally erogenous spot like that on Blaine. He knew wanting to find it was flirting with fire, but when he would drive home at night, the near midnight sky blanketing everything, it was all he could think about. Sometimes he opened the window in his room to let the warm air in, curtains pulled so he could see the night sky. There was something about that dark that made everything feel anonymous, that made the pleasure Kurt brought to his own body feel safer. 

Blaine was invited to Friday dinners quite often. Kurt wasn't sure if his dad knew how much freedom Blaine’s parents gave them, but Kurt had a sense that his dad might. He encouraged Kurt to have Blaine over at their house a lot. 

The first time Kurt really kissed Blaine goodbye at the door was tentative with the shy knowledge that his family most likely knew exactly what was happening. School was drawing closer and with the pressure of that knowledge, of knowing that soon Blaine would be back at Dalton and the time they got to spend together would be cut down by more than half, was a weight Kurt could not ignore. Blaine with Kurt’s family was fun. He was competitive when they played games but good natured and comfortable. 

They spent a lot of time in Kurt’s room watching reality TV and snacking on whatever themed tray of food Kurt had thrown together, cuddling close together; as close as they felt comfortable with the knowledge that anyone might come by. And while Kurt thought about kissing Blaine -- and more -- almost all the time, he loved the time they spend together just being close, laughing, singing together in the car, enjoying both friendship and romance. 

But now there were only three weeks until school and although Kurt’s campaign to convince Blaine to come to McKinley had ramped up as much as he could without becoming a jerk about it, Blaine was still on the fence about it. Blaine had spent the day with Kurt; first at the mall, helping Kurt hunt down new pieces for the fall wardrobe he was preparing, then dinner. Every time Kurt tried on a new pair of pants he could feel the weight of Blaine’s gaze. He didn’t have to catch him to know that Blaine was looking at his ass. They didn’t touch each there, or anywhere below the waist, or talk about it, but more and more Kurt wanted to. He was feeling more comfortable with the idea of making a fantasy into a reality. 

That gaze, the knowledge of Blaine’s attraction and affection, curled into Kurt’s belly and stayed with him through the rest of the day. Through the dinner he helped Kurt make, sometimes bumping into each other in the kitchen. All night Kurt’s body was buzzing and so aware of Blaine’s. It was hard to pretend to be interested in anything but staring at Blaine’s mouth during dinner, and when they all sat down to play Scattergories he had to leave over half of every category blank because every answer that came to mind had to do with Blaine, Blaine’s body, or what Kurt wanted to do with it. 

When he kissed Blaine goodbye that night, it was nothing like the tentative goodbye kisses they’d exchanged at this door for the last month. It was hungry, Kurt pressing his body into Blaine’s and against the door, lips taking Blaine’s fiercely, breath already short and hands grabbing Blaine’s hips so hard it hurt his fingers. 

“Kurt,” Blaine said, pulling away and turning his head and gasping. “What--” 

“I--” Kurt took Blaine’s chin in his hands and turned his face into another kiss, this one searching but laced with a confidence Kurt didn’t always feel when they were close like this. When Blaine put his arms around Kurt’s shoulders, his shirt rode up just the tiniest bit. Kurt’s fingers found their way under the hem immediately, Blaine’s skin thrilling warm and so alive under them. 

It happened so fast then -- Blaine’s pelvis surging forward and Kurt’s thumbs slipping under the waistband of his pants, pressing against this hipbones, Blaine’s obvious erection pressed against Kurt’s thigh for a much too fleeting moment and then Blaine pushed Kurt back with a groan that was definitely too loud to go unnoticed by anyone in their vicinity. 

“Kurt,” Blaine closed his eyes and tilted his head against the door. 

“Holy--” Kurt whispered then caught himself. “I-- I didn’t mean...you just -- all day and then--” 

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, opening his eyes. The look they shared then was frank in a way they rarely were with each other. “It’s okay Kurt. That was--” 

“Close?” 

Blaine smiled and nodded. He looked a little unsteady, but not a bad kind of unsteady. 

“I’d apologize, but I’m not that sorry,” Kurt said. The admission lit the air between them with a charge that was impossible to ignore. And electric _what if?_ that was so much more real than usual. 

“We should probably talk about this,” Blaine said. Kurt reached for his hand. He swallowed and did his best to maintain eye contact. He had a feeling a talk right now would be another 'ground rules' kind of talk, only a lot more intimate. It would require a level of candid honesty Kurt didn’t know if he could manage face-to-face. 

“Can we maybe talk tonight? On the phone I mean?” Kurt asked. Blaine squeezed his hand. His skin was a lovely deep olive, his hair curling at the temples. 

“Of course,” Blaine said, then tugged Kurt a little closer. Kurt let himself be reeled in, let himself sway into the temptation and risk of another kiss.


	14. Needle

In the hour between parting and their phone call that night, Kurt’s mind was technicolor anxiety and curiosity. It wasn’t that he dreaded the conversation, but he was apprehensive. He wasn’t sure who would lead, who _should_ lead, or quite what should be said. Dozens of questions, of anticipated questions, of answers to said anticipated questions buzzed like lighting inside his head.

His body, though -- his errant, willful, needing body -- seemed to have fallen into a half dormant state, that space just before the pins and needles set into a limb when it’s moved. Kurt paced his room, marking a path along the foot of his bed, waiting for Blaine to call. The width of his bed each time crossed was another thought, another worry, or a beautiful, incandescent, tempting image flittering through his mind. Breaths matching his pace, he tried to inhale control and exhale stress and only barely managed not to hyperventilate. He paused for a moment when he realized how _off_ his body felt, and wondered if his anxiety had shut it down, or if his body was just waiting to wake up. 

When the phone lit and Blaine’s face filled the screen, Kurt felt his body coming alive. Frightened a bit of the unknown, worried about what would be said, trepidatious perhaps, but really, beautifully alive with possibility.


	15. Occasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I fell way behind! Trying to catch up. I'm hella tired so this probably has errors I can't see in it. I'll be cleaning up the whole thing once advent is over. Thanks for the patience!

“Blaine, hi!” Kurt said, then took a breath and sat gingerly on his bed. “You got home okay?”

“Yes,” Blaine said. “I’m sorry it took so long, my mom was home and wanted to talk to me. And I…”

“You?” Kurt prompted when the pause stretched for a bit too long.

“Nothing, nevermind,” Blaine said. Kurt could picture him, the way Blaine smiled when he was pushing something off, the way he shook his head with his eyes cast down.

“I want to hear it, if you want to tell me,” Kurt said softly.

“I...my mind was still um...elsewhere, while I drove home. And then Mom was talking to me, which helped me clear my head. But then I wanted to take a little time to think before we had our talk.”

“That makes sense,” Kurt said. He’d done the same -- clearing his head then trying to think. Operative word being _trying_ .

“It occurred to me that last time we sat down to talk, we established we weren’t ready for a lot of things, but not really what they were,” Blaine explained.

Kurt closed his eyes then opened them and took in the details of his room. The boy who decorated this room didn’t quite exist any more. It wasn’t just having a dreamboat for a boyfriend who _loved_ him -- who loved him! Kurt didn’t necessarily have poor self esteem, but it took a lot of work to keep himself floating and steady in himself, and he did have low moments where he wasn’t sure of himself at all. But Blaine loved him despite Kurt’s shortcomings. He drew out some of Kurt’s best qualities. And now, with how he felt for Blaine deepening...Kurt remembered his father’s talk about love changing and understood it’s truth. He had loved Blaine then, but often now when he was with Blaine he felt another layer adding to it’s depth.

Kurt’s room was a space he had the freedom to express himself completely, and in it at that moment he felt simultaneously out of place and in the right place. He supposed that was growing up. 

“Yes, you’re right,” Kurt said.

“Do you want to now?”

Kurt settled more comfortably on his bed, in the center cross legged. Honesty time. If there was ever an occasion for complete honesty, this was it. “I do but I don’t.”

“What does that mean?”

Kurt smiled into the comfort of Blaine’s patience.

“When we’re together... and sometimes when we’re not, I think about _things_. And I think about how I want more. But then….I can’t say the words. Sometimes it feels like too much to even think them.”

“The words?”

“For what I want to do, or where things might go.”

“Okay…” Blaine sounded a bit confused.

“And I think that if I’m not ready to say the words, I probably am not ready to do them. But I still _want_ stuff even when I don't. It get’s confusing when I’m with you and we’re kissing and…”

“Okay, yes,” Blaine says. “I think I know what you mean about wanting more.”

“Oh good.”

“I still feel like it would be good to know exactly what you aren’t comfortable with. So that if I know I can try to stop things too, if they seem like they’re going too far.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” Kurt said. The fondness he felt for Blaine’s lovely manners and understanding throbbed sweetly in his chest.

“Do you want me to say words or suggest things that come to mind and you can tell me what’s too much?” Blaine asked. Kurt’s immediate response was to blush hot and fast. His heart started to beat at an increased tempo. The idea of hearing words for things that sounded delicious but scary and really frank made him nervous enough to sweat.

“Well…” he licked his lips and pushed through. “I hope this doesn’t upset you--”

“Nothing you say right now could upset me,” Blaine interrupted. “Unless you’re going to break up with me.”

“No! No of course not.”

“Okay good,” Blaine’s voice sounded like he was smiling. “So okay we have things like frottage, oral, manu-”

“ _Oh my god_ , Blaine! Wait--”

“Oh sorry, sorry!” Blaine rushed to say.

“No it’s okay, that j-just...I wasn’t p-prepared,” Kurt said, squeezing his eyes closed. He was overheating. He was absolutely cooking in his clothes. He’d take his shirt off but in proximity of the words Blaine was saying, it felt way too incredibly intimate to be half naked, even on the phone. It was ridiculous. _He_ was ridiculous. “So...”

They were both silent for a while. Then Kurt sighed because he knew he had to bite the bullet.

“I don’t think I’m ready for any of that,” he admitted, silently hoping Blaine wouldn’t be too disappointed. “It’s just that all of that...I mean to me, I think of all of those things as, um,” he cleared his throat.

“Sex?” Blaine supplied for him.

“Yes?”

“Okay yeah,” Blaine said. “Me too.” There was a relief in the shared belief.

“And I don’t know that I’m ready,” Kurt said. He felt childish and silly, with nothing but the same vague words to explain himself. Especially considering his confident and assertive kisses and touches just before.

“Alright,” Blaine agreed easily. Kurt was too shy in that moment to ask if this would upset Blaine. “I think then,” Blaine continued, “that maybe we just need to keep things -- like touching -- more careful.”

Kurt wasn’t quite sure what that meant, other than being able to hazard a guess that Blaine’s hipbones where a _thing_ , like Kurt’s neck _thing_ , and while a part of his brain registered deep disappointment that they were probably a no-go zone, another was relieved.

“Like, above the waist?” Kurt tried to clarify.

“Um, yeah, sure that sounds okay,” Blaine said. Kurt thought he could detect a note of disappointment. But maybe that was his own.

“Is that alright?” he asked. That tentative hesitation felt like intimacy. Trusting Blaine with his vulnerable self, the one he kept protected from everyone else.

“Kurt,” Blaine’s voice was sweet. “Of course. I want both of us to be ready.”

“Me too,” Kurt said. They didn’t speak for a while, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable or too heavy. It was shared trust and agreement and harmony. “I love you Blaine,” Kurt said softly, meaning it so richly.

“Oh Kurt,” Blaine said. He always said Kurt’s name in such a lovely way, tender and treasured and intent. “I love you too.”


	16. Please

Their first month together at McKinley was busy enough that Kurt didn’t notice it. They didn’t have a tremendous amount of alone time together unless they planned for it carefully and went to Blaine’s house. Play practice and Glee practice and trying to decompress or talk it over at the Lima Bean became their usual post-practice activity.

It wasn’t until September bled into October, when the most impatient trees began to shed yellow leaves,well ahead of most of the other trees, that Kurt managed to put a finger on what was niggling under his skin. 

Blaine’s parents were both out, it was Saturday night and he had a late curfew. It wasn’t although they didn’t sometimes make out when Blaine’s parents were home, but it had a different tenor. The knowledge that they weren’t home made Kurt feel a little bolder. 

He arrived with chocolate cheesecake bites, feeling a little mischievous and with a tingling that was definitely because he _missed_ this kind of unrestricted time with Blaine. It was only the third time they’d had such a luxury since the end of August. 

“I brought something delicious,” Kurt said with a smile, leaning against the door casually, plate of dessert held at chest level. 

“Kurt,” Blaine smiled too, only Kurt was sure it was a different kind of smile. Less intimate and more friendly. “Oh, this look delicious. They’ll go well after dinner.” 

“Did you make dinner?” Kurt said, leaning in for a kiss. It was too brief, and Blaine’s warm hand squeezed his waist fleetingly. 

“Well, I tried.” Blaine shrugged. “I’m no Kurt Hummel.” 

“He’s a terrible show off,” Kurt said. “Let’s ignore him.” 

Blaine’s eyes sparkled with his smile. He was wearing a striped henley with two buttons undone and deep blue pants. Kurt wanted to ruck that shirt up, to get his fingers up and under it, to feel the silken slip of Blaine’s skin. Maybe even a nipple if he could manage before Blaine would roll away and put the brakes on. 

“Come on.” Blaine took his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen. “I made a lemon artichoke pasta thing.” 

“That sounds promising.” Kurt followed obediently. Blaine’s backside looked incredible in those pants, and without shoes or socks on, the jutting curve of his ankles was clear. Not that it wasn’t usually, but without shoes on it seemed almost scandalous. 

~*~ 

They ate dinner with the chattering comfort of companionship rich between them. Blaine was in a lovely soft mood, all eyelashes and sweet smiles which made Kurt feel warm with affection and the urge to pull him onto his lap and kiss his cheekbones and ears tenderly. 

“Want to watch a movie?” Blaine asked as soon as the dishes were cleaned. Kurt felt a little sleepy from the meal. 

“Sure,” Kurt said, thinking of the deep luxury of the family room couch, big enough for them both to lie down together. 

After they’d selected the movie, Blaine left the room, leaving Kurt with only a kiss on the cheek. “Popcorn,” he explained. Kurt tried not to frown. The last thing he wanted between them was a bowl of popcorn. And although he did love popcorn, he also felt like kissing might be sexier without buttery lips. 

When Blaine came back, settling a big metal mixing bowl of steaming popcorn between them, Kurt decided he had to take the initiative. The movie was already playing, and maybe it was a little presumptuous to try to make out with Blaine without at least pretending that that wasn’t the only reason he’d come. And it wasn’t. But it was a big one because Kurt missed that closeness with Blaine after a long time without. 

He slid over a bit, then took the bowl and slid it onto the table. Blaine had just taken a few kernels and looked surprised. Going for bold and sexy through his nerves, Kurt lifted Blaine’s hand and nibbled the popcorn from his fingertips. The huff of breath from Blaine’s surprised mouth was good, it was all good, because then he leaned in and kissed Blaine and got a biting, heady reciprocal kiss in return. 

He let himself get lost in kisses, hand still holding Blaine’s, only at some point he became aware that they’d linked fingers. Kurt broke out of the kiss and pressed his forehead to Blaine’s. 

“I love you,” Kurt whispered. Blaine pulled away to look into Kurt’s eyes, then cupped Kurt’s cheek with his hand. It wasn’t often that Kurt said it first. 

“I love you too,” Blaine said between kisses, flittering kisses as he shuffled closer. Kurt got Blaine’s shirt in his hands and pulled him down until Blaine was hovering carefully over him. There was a space between their bodies that Kurt wished Blaine would just melt into, although he know that might be flirting with the kind of intimacy they avoided. 

Their kisses were slow. They weren’t exploratory anymore; that newness had faded into something more familiar. Still they were lush, beautiful kisses that made Kurt breathless and unsettled, body straining against his will. 

It was in the middle of a kiss like this, one he tried to deepen, which was a little challenging with Blaine hovering the way he was, that he carefully began to untuck Blaine’s shirt. He’d only just gotten fingertips under it when Blaine pulled back. 

“Kurt wait,” he said. Kurt flattened his palms against the small of Blaine’s back. His skin was so hot. 

“Please Blaine,” Kurt whispered, lower than he meant. He moved his hands to squeeze Blaine’s waist, so much skin a delight he hadn’t mapped before. 

“I don’t--” 

Kurt kissed him again. He had to roll to the side where Blaine had moved to, swallowing the subvocal noise Blaine made. 

I don’t know--” Blaine said, breaking from the kiss when Kurt’s left hand started to inch up toward his ribs. Kurt froze when Blaine did. 

“Oh!” Kurt extracted his hands quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” He sat up, smoothed his hair at the back of his head and bit his lip. 

“No,” Blaine sat too, propping himself on one hand, their bodies awkwardly perched on the couch longwise like they were. “You weren’t. It was just….a lot.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said again. 

“Stop,” Blaine smiled, then kissed Kurt’s cheek. “I’m just trying to be careful, okay?” 

“Yeah, alright,” Kurt said, then struggled away to sit properly. “Why don’t we eat this popcorn and finish the movie,” he made an effort to keep his voice light and neutral and not at all disappointed. Blaine took a moment then smiled too, only it wasn’t quite his real smile. 

“Sounds great.” 

~*~ 

Kurt worried over it on his way home that night, the gnawing worry that he was pushing Blaine pressing in his chest. He worried over it, and again, all through his bedtime routine and then in his bed. 

The thing was that he wasn’t sure if Blaine felt pushed, or if Blaine was just trying to keep a promise based on Kurt’s not-readiness. He realizes now that when they’d talked, Kurt had said he wasn’t ready and Blaine had suggested they be more careful. He really had no idea how ready Blaine was. What if Blaine was completely ready for more and Kurt had shut down any conversation about it without meaning to, based on a self centered lack of insight? Because Blaine had been a little distant, when they were together. Things had not been as heated, or hadn’t gotten as heated in a while. And that was the thing, the thing that was under his skin that he hadn’t identified or let himself dwell on. 

But he saw it now, and it was front and center, and Kurt didn’t know what to do with it.


	17. Rent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::so behind I'm sorryyyyyyy::

Kurt ran his fingers over the sides of his hair carefully, just in case there were any flyaways. Blaine was next to him on the bed, but not as next to him as Kurt might like. If he had it his way, Blaine would be plastered against him; it had been at least a week since they’d shared any closeness other than a few kisses. His father was home, true, and maybe a week wasn’t all that long in the greater scheme of things, but it felt really long. Especially since there seemed to be this tiny lag, something not quite right between them, physically.

Kurt had no idea if it really existed, or if it was just in his head, or if his anxiety was transmitting somehow to Blaine and his worries were manifesting the thing he was worried about. Frankly the whole thing was giving him a headache. 

It would probably be prudent to talk to Blaine about this, but every time they had talked about this kind of stuff, it had been because they wanted _more_ , or because they were trying to figure out how to manage their desire for more. This didn’t seem like that at all. In the absence of knowing quite what was going on, worries Kurt thought by turns was ridiculous or totally founded rooted into his brain. 

What if Blaine didn’t want him any more? Or what if he was losing interest? What if Kurt putting the brakes on earlier made Blaine lose interest altogether? Did he think Kurt was a prude? 

So yes. Headache. Anxiety. But also, a tugging, deep longing. 

Angel and Collins were singing down the streets of New York when Kurt finally decided to screw his anxieties and make a move. He shifted towards Blaine until there wasn’t even a wisp of space between them and leaned in to kiss Blaine’s cheek. He let himself linger; there was the slightest rasp of stubble against his lips and the scent of aftershave filled his nose deliciously. 

He felt Blaine smile under his lips before he saw it, and when Blaine turned to kiss him he went into it gratefully. 

But Blaine pulled away quickly, smiling again and squeezing Kurt’s hand. 

“I love this part, don’t you?” 

“I guess,” Kurt said, pulling in a pout. “I never really liked that lyric though.” 

“Which one?” Blaine asked. 

“About not being able to buy love, but being able to rent it,” Kurt explained. 

“Oh?” Blaine turned towards him. “Yeah, I guess I can see why,” Blaine said after thinking it over. He turned back to the movie and Kurt sighed, trying not to feel rejected. 

He tilted his head until it was settled against Blaine’s shoulder somewhat comfortably and whispered, “With me, it will always be free.” 

Blaine’s cheek rested against his head. “I love you too Kurt,” he said quietly.


	18. Scarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to spoil the fic, but cat's out of the bag for readers who couldn't tell -- this fic is totes canon compliant. (Although there might be tiny inaccuracies, I'll admit I didn't have time to rewatch episodes).

The night Kurt drove home from Blaine’s after a complete flop of an attempt at candid conversation, Kurt was by turns turned on (because who wouldn’t be after Blaine’s frank admission that he masturbated to control his urges? Kurt guessed the word _urges_ was Blaine’s version of Kurt’s _things_. Also the dancing around in just a tight white shirt with his _hips_ and _arms_ and _legs_ and basically whole body being so sexy and perfectly beautiful) and confused. Mostly though, Kurt was bemused by Blaine’s cluelessness.

Kurt had worn a sexy but tasteful outfit, hoping to convey something that might subtly convey a sex-kittenish tone. Instead of ravishing Kurt, Blaine had sat him on the bed, turned on a new record, and danced incredibly enticingly around his room. For his efforts at initiating further intimacy, Kurt had gotten a few quick (although heated) kisses and a kind of rejection. Although this one didn’t sting so much as baffle. 

The whole _I want you to be comfortable to I can be comfortable_ line was endearingly sweet, and so Blaine, but Kurt wasn’t sure how him talking about ripping off clothes and getting dirty translated to Blaine as anything more than, _I think I might be ready for more._

Last week, when Blaine had rejected his advances, Kurt was hurt and confused. Now, though, he was elated and confused. Blaine wasn’t rejecting Kurt because he didn’t want him. He wouldn’t have admitted to getting off to control his urges if he didn’t want Kurt, right? 

It’s not like Kurt was going to try to convince Blaine to...do more. Kurt sat a little straighter and gripped the steering wheel. If he wanted to do it, he needed to think it, he he knew. 

It wasn’t just that he was ready for partial nudity or touching Blaine’s nipple (although, no really, he wanted to). Sometimes when he thought about those things he almost came out of his skin, desire that hurt with aching, a body so sensitive even his sheets scraping against his naked body become another sensation driving him to orgasm. Kurt was ready for more. He wanted to have sex with Blaine. 

Heat was pouring from the vents of his car, meant to combat the November chill, but now he was overheating. One handed he opened his coat and took off his scarf, turning the air to cool and trying valiantly to remove certain images from his imagination because he needed to focus on driving, not on not getting a painful erection that would demand attention until he was alone in his room and could take care of it. Damn all of his layers. 

He had to focus on the next step to take. He wouldn’t push Blaine into any kind of intimacy. Kurt remembered that time on Blaine’s couch in the summer, when Blaine had tried to stop him from taking off his shirt and Kurt had let himself get a little caught up in the moment. Right now, Kurt was having a hard time reading Blaine’s actual readiness, and trying to talk tonight hadn’t worked. 

He needed a plan, or advice, or something. A handbook. Too bad none of those pamphlets his father gave him told him what to do right now. Instead of advice on losing teenage virginity via some mutual handjobs ( _oh god_ again with the overheating), he’d gotten quite the education on anal sex. Nope. Working up to nudity and touching skin overwhelmed him in fantasy at this point, they were all Kurt could handle. 

His dad had said he could talk to him any time. The thought of talking to him in detail (“Dad, I want to lick Blaine’s nipple and see if his balls are as soft as mine and maybe run my finger through his come”) made Kurt want to dig a hole to crawl into. 

So many not details. Maybe the gist? He couldn’t talk to Rachel (all the squealing and personal detail and intimate questions would definitely not be helpful). There was no one he felt close enough too right now to talk to. Mercedes had pulled away from him so suddenly Kurt could feel a hole in his chest where her friendship had always burrowed safely. Finn? Kurt snorted at the thought. Talk about uncomfortable. 

His dad it was then, if he could build up the courage, and figure out the words to say. 


	19. twist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not thrilled with this one, but I've been sitting on it for two days so I don't think it's gonna get better any time soon.

“Hey Dad,” Kurt said, poking his head into the family room. His dad was parked in the recliner with Sports Center.

“Hey bud, how’s it going?” his dad said. He muted the T.V. Kurt stepped in and sat gingerly on the couch, hands clenched tightly in his lap. 

“Um,” he said, then licked his lips. His stomach twisted alarmingly. This was stupid, what did he think he was going to say? “You know, it’s late, I think I’m just going--” 

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there kid,” Burt said and held up a hand. Kurt sighed and sank back down onto the couch. “What’s on your mind?” 

“I...don’t know how to begin,” Kurt admitted. 

“You in trouble? Something wrong?” 

“No, no,” Kurt rushed to assuage the concern. “No just, um. You once said I could come talk to you about...things. If I ever needed to.” Kurt didn’t look up. His dad cleared his throat and the pause before he spoke felt like a torturous eternity. 

“Alright,” Burt said. The foot rest _screeeeaked_ coming down when his dad shut it. Kurt darted a look up; his cheeks were burning. “Let’s go get some milk or toast or something” 

“Okay,” Kurt said. 

In the kitchen, Kurt busied himself making warm milk and toast and took the time to calm down. Asking his dad to talk about this had felt really scary. And maybe _what_ he needed to talk about was too, but it didn’t feel so huge now that he'd taken the first step. 

“So let’s hear it,” Burt said when Kurt slid the mug of milk across the table. 

“Blaine and I…” Kurt turned his mug around and around. “Up until recently we’ve been pretty good about talking to each other about um, intimacy.” 

“Intimacy?” Burt raised an eyebrow, voice dry. 

“Not--” Kurt blurted, “not that we’ve b-been intimate! We’ve talked about um, going slow and making sure we’re both ready.” 

“Okay then,” Burt said, confusion lining his face. 

“Only, lately we haven’t been. Talking, I mean,” Kurt said, then blew out a breath and told himself to calm down. “I’ve tried but I can’t tell if I’m not being clear enough or if he’s trying to avoid having a conversation." 

“How clear is clear?” his dad said. Kurt winced. 

“Well, not...detailed exactly. The last thing I want to do is push Blaine, _at all_ if he just doesn’t want to talk about it. I can’t decide if he’s doing this for himself or because he’s trying to respect me, or some idea he might have gotten...before.” Kurt finished lamely, catching himself from saying too much at the last minute. 

“So what you’re, uh, sayin’,” Burt started, then paused. He took off his cap with one hand and rubbed his head. “Is that you want to talk because you _are_ ready for…” he cleared his throat. “Sex?” 

Kurt was well aware that most people had one definition of what constituted sex. He didn’t know if that’s how his dad felt, but there were lines he absolutely didn’t want to cross in the conversation. 

“No, no.” Kurt shook his head. “Definitely not ready for…. _that._ That's not what I mean.” 

“So...wow. Really? Nothing?” The incredulity on his dad’s face was almost comical. Kurt shifted and resisted frowning. 

“Well,” he said defensively, “the last time he and I talked about any of this, I- I told him I wasn’t ready; how it felt easy, like it could be easy to just get carried away. But I remember what you said to me,” Kurt looked up. “About it doing stuff to me and my heart. And it’s not that I didn’t -- don't --love Blaine, but I couldn’t even _think_ about talking about some things, and I was so scared of it, I thought that must mean I wasn’t ready.” 

“Kurt that-- that’s really mature of you.” 

Kurt lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. But I don’t know that I listened to Blaine all that well. Or that I really encouraged him to talk. And after that, I think he pulled away from stuff." He winced at how lame his own words sounded. 

“Well,” Burt sighed and rubbed his chin. “I gotta say, it does me good to know that you boys have been talking and not rushing anything you’re not ready for.” 

Kurt studied the top of the table hard enough to burn holes through it. 

“And that you respect him enough to want to be careful.” 

“I love him,” Kurt said, and shrugged. It was that simple. 

“Yeah,” his dad smiled at him. Kurt sipped his milk and waited. The house was late night quiet around them, lacking the crashing of Finn’s particular bustle. Kurt wondered where he was. “I can’t tell you exactly what to do because I'm not you or Blaine. But it doesn't seem to me that being upfront is pushing. So long as you are honest and respectful, I think you boys'll be okay." 


	20. Uniform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short, but I'm trying to chill about the story and keep it drabble-y for now and not make it so stressful! I know ya'll want resolution and I promise it will happen :D

Scandals had been a huge mistake. A catastrophically stupid mistake. It was a huge mistake Kurt didn’t know how to undo because he wasn’t quite sure what the hell was going on other than that this week had been an awful, terrible pile of up, down, inside out mess.

Despite Blaine’s not so promising reaction to Kurt trying to initiate a “ripping clothes off” conversation, things had seemed to be progressing a little a few days later. For example, there’d been that moment in the hallway, that charged, naked moment between them that had left Kurt breathless and aching for touch. 

Two steps forward and one back must have been the theme of the week, because later that very day Sebastian happened. 

Kurt had every idea what Sebastian wanted from Blaine, and no idea what was happening in Blaine’s beautiful, obtuse head. All Kurt knew was that from the moment he’d seen that smug, spoiled, horse faced boy -- who in the uniform that had suited Blaine so well, managed to look like a scarecrow -- Kurt had been besieged by a kaleidoscope of green envy and red hot irritation. His feelings were practically Christmas, only without holly, eggnog, presents or twinkling lights. 

Kurt flung himself onto his bed, sighed up at the ceiling, then sat up again to shimmy out of his long vest and then jeans because they were incredibly uncomfortable. He flopped back down and let himself stew in his irritation and bafflement and chagrin for ten more minutes before finally letting the deepest feeling through -- worry. 

_I love you_ he texted Blaine, then put his phone down on his nightstand. He wasn’t ready to apologize -- he was not even sure if he was the one who should apologize or if they both did or if there was just a load of growing up that needed to be done -- but he wanted to be sure that at least _something_ was still okay with them. 

Kurt came back from the bathroom, teeth still tingling with mint to find that Blaine had responded almost immediately. 

_I love you too_

He didn’t say more and neither did Kurt. He wouldn’t know what to say right now anyway. Kurt knew he tended toward a sharp tongue and didn’t always think before speaking, but he tried hard to be more careful with Blaine, and this was definitely a moment for care.


	21. Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me! It's coming! I'll try to catch up on drabbles today, but you know how crazy Christmas Eve can be.

Although they exchanged a few texts and saw each other in school, there was a silence between them for a few days. Was it just nerves leading up to the play? It was certainly dominating both of their lives, but especially Blaine’s. Kurt knew that neither of them really knew how to bridge the gap their fight had created.

Uncertainty and anxiety sat in his stomach like a sharp stone, edges pressing against his insides. He’d seen once a picture of a crystal that grew in a beautiful gunmetal color with squared edges; that’s what this felt like. 

“Everything okay Kurt?” Carol asked at dinner the night before the play. Kurt mustered a smile. 

“Yeah. Must be nerves,” he said. His dad gave him a sharp look and Finn kept his eyes on his dinner. Everyone in Glee had to know something was going up, since he and Blaine were barely talking. Kurt appreciated his discretion. 

Before bed he practiced his lines and pictured himself on stage. Krupke wasn’t the lead, but it was a good part for many reasons. Regretting that he and Blaine weren’t running lines together like they had been only made that sharpness in his stomach worse; he tried to push it out of his mind and focus. 

“Kurt,” his dad was at the door, knocking softly. 

“Hi,” Kurt looked up from his bed, setting down his battered script. 

“Want to talk?” his dad asked, perched on the edge of the bed. 

“No,” Kurt said, sighing and looked at his dad. “Blaine and I are...something. I don’t know. But I don’t know that I’m ready to talk about it. I think I need to talk to him about it first.” 

“Well, I gotta respect that,” Burt said, clapping a hand on Kurt’s knee. “Just remember I’m here, okay?” 

“Of course,” Kurt said. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to give his dad a hug. He smelled faintly of the shop, oil and metal. It settled Kurt’s nerves a bit. 

Kurt lay in bed that night, sleepless and uncomfortable. He texted Blaine goodnight, and tried to use Blaine’s _I love you_ to soothe. But nothing but talking to Blaine would really work. Tomorrow was their first show, and Kurt the night before opening night wasn’t the right time for this. But after, maybe. 

Jealousy was ugly on him, and he didn’t want to wear it. But he thought of Blaine dancing with Sebastian and accepting his beers at Scandals and felt himself tinging green. 

He hadn’t liked it. He hadn’t liked Blaine drunk, body heavy and uncoordinated, and he hadn’t liked the feeling of being confined in a car with him in those circumstances. The words had meant something -- the confirmation and Blaine wanted him so much. Kurt just wished it hadn’t taken the removal of a filter called beer for Blaine to say them. 

~*~ 

Watching Blaine perform between scenes from backstage was revelatory. Blaine was so good, a perfect fit for the role. HIs voice suited it, his earnestness shone through in his acting. Kurt let Blaine’s talent and voice strike him; he refused the mantle of jealousy when he saw Sebastian with the Warblers and set it aside for their talk later. Blaine was magic, beautiful magic, and Kurt felt pride and love swell. 

They would talk, Kurt would be sure of it. And then, Blaine’s house. Despite everything, Kurt knew more than ever that he wanted a deep. sweet intimacy with Blaine. He had so much to give him; not just words, not just kisses, but a very tender and scary trust with his body and the secret recess of his heart. Kurt wasn’t banking on anything happening tonight, despite the brilliant tingles under his skin, but he was going to do his best to at least talk about it. 

~*~ 

Blaine’s house was quiet, and the stillness felt right; it didn’t need to be filled with nervous energy. The energy they were sharing, bringing with them, was just right. Was it a small vacation from everything else -- the stress of the show and the off-centeredness between them? Kurt genuinely hoped not. When Blaine led him up to the bedroom, when Kurt pulled him to the bed, and when Blaine combed the hair behind Kurt’s head back with the gentlest of fingers and kissed him with all the apology and love they were sharing, Kurt’s heart throbbed and he had to pull back tears that threatened. 

“I really love you so,” he whispered. The hug Blaine pulled him into was tight, the crook of his neck familiar redolent. 

“Do you want to talk?” Blaine asked. 

“Yes,” Kurt said. He settled in the middle of Blaine’s bed, took a breath, and began.


	22. Wedding

“Last time we talked, I think I didn’t let you talk, or if you did, maybe I didn’t listen very well,” Kurt said.

“No Kurt, not at all,” Blaine responded. 

“I don’t remember talking about what you were ready for though,” Kurt said. 

“Kurt, I wanted to be sure to respect your limits. What was there to say?” 

Kurt took Blaine’s hands and settled closer to him. “So you were ready for more?” he guessed.. 

“Oh I don’t know, then,” Blaine said. The light shone over the gelled planes of his hair. “But soon after, yeah.” 

“Is that why you…” Kurt bit his lip and looked away. Blaine’s room was always so inviting, all warm colors and cozy linens. He felt safe here, with Blaine close and holding his hands. 

“Why I?” Blaine prompted. 

“It feels like you’ve been pulling away. Physically, I mean,” Kurt said. 

Blaine furrowed his brow. “Is that how it seemed?” 

“Yes.” 

Blaine squeezed his hands, and took a minutes to think. “I didn’t mean for it to seem like that. I just wanted to be careful. After a bit I realized that maybe I think -- thought -- about sex differently,” Blaine explained. 

Tilting his head, Kurt examined Blaine. Immediately his stomach fell. “What do you mean?” 

“It’s not that it’s not important -- making sure we’re both ready. Or that I don’t want my first time to be about love and intimacy. But it didn’t feel scary, I started to worry that me being ready before you meant I didn’t care enough about how important it was, or something.” 

“Blaine,” Kurt said. Fondness swept through him. “You didn’t have to be ready at the exact same time I was.” 

“But being ready so much sooner -- doesn’t that say something about me?” 

Kurt blinked. Did it? Maybe it was just that they felt differently about sex. And that that was okay. “So is that why you were pulling away?” 

“I worried about pressuring you. At first you and I were on the same page, and although it was hard, stopping, I knew I wasn’t ready either. But when I was, I was scared that I’d end up pressuring you by accident or that if I didn’t pull away sooner it would be easier for you to get carried away.” The grin he gave Kurt was a little sheepish and a little saucy. Kurt blushed. 

“Why Blaine Anderson, are you trying to insinuate something about my moral character?” Kurt joked. 

“I’m saying that you’re sexy, and that when we make out it’s hot, and that we’ve already established that when something feels that good, it can be hard to stop.” Blaine said. 

“Well that’s definitely a better reason than I was imagining,” Kurt said. Blaine thought he was _sexy_. Kurt definitely saw himself in many ways, but never as someone who could be sexy. 

“What were you thinking?” Blaine asked. 

“That maybe you weren’t interested any more. That you maybe thought I’m prude.” 

“Oh my god, Kurt,” Blaine said, laughter in his voice. 

“Maybe you thought I was waiting to get married,” Kurt joked. “The perfect wedding as seduction.” He sobered for a second then offered some vulnerable honestly. “That maybe you weren’t attracted to me...sexually. Anymore.” 

“How could you think that?” Blaine leaned in to kiss Kurt’s cheek, then right by his ear. Heat washed down Kurt’s body from the warmth of Blaine’s voice by his ear. “You’re so sexy it makes me crazy. You’re so…” he pulled back to find the right word. “Sensual.” 

“Oh my,” Kurt said, searching for his breath when Blaine leaned in to kiss his lips. Well, he had told Blaine that he took his breath away. 

“I definitely don’t think you’re prude,” Blaine bit down so lightly at his jaw it was barely discernible, but it wracked pleasure through Kurt’s body. 

“ _Blaine_ ," Kurt whimpered, then ducked his head into a kiss, fingers grasping the material at Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine tilted them down until Kurt was prone on the bed, Blaine close and next to him. 

“The other day, when you said that stuff,” Blaine said, propping himself up, “I-- I just wasn’t prepared for you to say that. I didn’t mean to reject you.” 

“Oh,” Kurt said. It was almost lost in the increase of his breathing. 

“Did you mean- were you trying to tell me…?” 

“That I’m ready for more?” Kurt supplied. Blaine nodded and Kurt smiled. His insides felt like quivering jelly and he could hardly breathe through nerves and arousal. 

“Yeah,” Blaine said. Kurt nodded and pulled Blaine closer for a kiss, maneuvering him onto his body. Blaine hovered awkwardly over him. 

“Too much pressure?” Kurt said, pulling away when Blaine’s kisses remained hesitant. 

“It just seems huge, and fast.” 

Kurt frowned, “Too fast?” Hadn’t they just covered this? 

“No like...no touching below the waist, no touching under clothes, and now… _sex_ ,” Blaine explained. 

“I see what you mean,” Kurt said. It dawned on him that he’d been so focused on the end goal -- getting off together -- it hadn’t occurred to him that there were several steps in between where they had been and _that_. Maybe because he wouldn’t have minded some of them before but Blaine had kept pulling away. “We don’t have to go that far right now, you know,” Kurt pointed out. “We can just see what happens.” 

“Okay,” Blaine said. “So basically, we can get as carried away as we want, but stop if it becomes too much?” 

“Yeah,” Kurt breathed, eyes on Blaine’s. He wasn’t trying to be sexy; he had kept practicing in the mirror long after that embarrassing ‘practice’ session with Blaine. He was well aware that he wasn’t good at making sexy faces. But he wasn’t _trying_ to be sexy right now. He just _felt_ it, and from the soft, helpless noise Blaine made to the searing kiss he got, Kurt was pretty sure he was. 


	23. Chapter 23

Kissing Blaine without boundaries sent a heady, reckless confidence through Kurt’s veins. It made him restless in a way that making out had never felt before; it made him hungry in a way one is before a decadent meal. But Blaine was better than any feast Kurt could imagine. Blaine was compact and lovely, all boy and enticing scent, warm mouthed and _his_.

Only Blaine didn’t seem to be feeling as confident. When Kurt took a chance and slipped a hand under Blaine’s shirt, he found warm skin and tense muscles. Kurt kissed the flittering pulse in Blaine's throat and whispered, “Okay?” 

“Yeah,” Blaine said, and shifted. Cleared his throat and shivered when Kurt dug his nails into the skin of his lower back gently. He traced Blaine’s spine, up as far as Blaine’s bunching shirt allowed, then down to the edge of his pants. Blaine made a little noise, a little shocked and a little something else. Kurt pulled away from Blaine’s neck and made eye contact with him. 

“You don’t seem okay,” he said. Blaine’s eyes fluttered with his self deprecating laugh. 

“Nervous,” Blaine admitted. Kurt ran his thumb along Blaine’s cheekbone and then traced it along Blaine’s eyebrow. The way they both kept dancing around each other, it would be years before they ever managed to move past kissing. It was time to take matters into his own hands. 

“I know what will help,” Kurt said after a moment to plan. 

“Oh?” Blaine responded. 

Kurt smiled, careful to keep mischief off of his face, and rolled Blaine over, swallowing Blaine’s exclamation with another kiss. Only when he had Blaine well and distracted did he attack, tickling Blaine mercilessly. Blaine was always adorably ticklish, and Kurt had discovered months ago that he became _more_ ticklish when he was nervous or turned on. 

“St-top, _eee!_ ” Blaine squirmed, laughing hysterically, trying and failing to dislodge Kurt. “ _Oh god,Ku-rt_ ,” he made a valiant effort to roll Kurt off of him; Kurt slipped his arms under Blaine’s easily and clung to him, letting Blaine roll him. Before Blaine could catch his breath Kurt was leaning up and kissing him. Blaine’s breathless open lips parted easily, welcoming Kurt’s at first because he was caught off guard and then as Kurt kissed him more fervently, harder and more desperately. 

Which was good. He wanted Blaine kissing him like this, not stilted with the nerves of thinking too much about what might happen. Blaine’s hand slid up Kurt’s side, untucking his shirt but stopping when it encountered the roadblock of his vest. Kurt didn’t let him pull away even for a second to complain, just took a chance and wrapped one leg around him, thigh pressing Blaine’s hip, their bodies so close that Blaine’s dick was against his, a too-hot pressure unleashing a stunning throbbing deep inside of Kurt. Blaine’s thumb was under his shirt and his mouth was sucking a kiss to Kurt’s neck. 

“Stop, oh, _oh_!” 

Blaine pulled back as if burned, but Kurt wouldn’t let him go, kept his arms tight around Blaine’s tiny waist, hips squeezed between his own thighs, which had opened at some point to snug their bodies together. 

“No, not, _stop_ stop,” Kurt said. His voice shook and cracked and his heart and cock were near to exploding. “I just...I wanted it to last.” 

“It?” Blaine asked. His color was deliciously high, lips slick and eyes dark with blown pupils. 

“First time,” Kurt said, his half-shrug almost apologetic but not quite. 

“Well,” Blaine settled his weight with his elbows next to Kurt’s head. The small jostle and the movement of their bodies had Kurt gritting his teeth. “This is a problem,” he teased. Kurt pinched his side and almost regretted when that caused Blaine to wiggle against him. 

“Shush.” 

“I’ve always wondered if ‘first time’ means just the first orgasm? A whole night, should one be so lucky?” Blaine mused. He kissed Kurt’s nose. 

Kurt ran his fingers over Blaine’s ear, tucking a piece of hair that was coming loose against the others. It sprang right back. “You make an excellent point.” 

“I have been known to,” Blaine said. He kissed the edge of Kurt’s ear and then made a more determined effort to get his hand under Kurt’s shirt. All he managed was to graze one hip bone and then near Kurt’s belly button. 

“I’m afraid that we’re going to get to that first orgasm in about four seconds if you keep that up,” Kurt said, squirming, voice high and thin. “I had grander plans than coming in my pants.” 

“Oh well, we can take care of that,” Blaine said, lips wet against Kurt’s before they drew away. Blaine sat up and began to fumble with Kurt’s belt without warning. 

“Wha--” Kurt fluttered his hands, not knowing if he wanted to stop Blaine, help Blaine, or attack Blaine’s pants. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing jeans or a belt. 

“There’s a logical, timely solution to every problem,” Blaine informed Kurt, flipping the belt open. Kurt giggled because that was so utterly and completely a Blaine thing to say. 

“Come here,” he said, pulling Blaine’s mouth back to his. Everything was uncoordinated and they were so unpracticed; Blaine precariously balanced with one hand trying to push Kurt’s tight jeans down and one keeping him steady, Kurt’s hands desperately tugging Blaine’s pants down, both of them kissing with no finesse until Kurt accidentally knocked Blaine onto him. And then it was all fire, racing up the backs of Kurt’s trapped thighs and roiling into his pelvis like an electric storm. Blaine’s cock and his were separated only by the thinnest fabric of underwear, and Blaine’s ass was just perfect, perfectly rounded and soft under Kurt’s hand where he’d slipped it under the edge of Blaine’s briefs. It only lasted about fifteen seconds -- fifteen beautiful, grinding, fever blinding seconds -- before he was moaning into Blaine’s mouth and coming in pulses against Blaine’s body.


	24. Zig Zag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Moses it's over! Okay I want to say I am gonna go back and clean this up and restructure. I had no idea it would be this long or become this...thing. But who knows if I'll have the time! Thank you so much for putting up with me being late with the end of this whole thing! 
> 
> There is so much self indulgent fluff here, OMG watch out.

Afterglow was possibly the most beautiful thing Kurt had ever experienced in his life. The pleasure of orgasm had been shattering, so much better and intense than getting off alone. But after, Blaine’s body heavy and loose, shaking lightly, lips incredibly gentle, kisses lush with it -- it was indescribable.

Under his fingers, creeping along what skin they could meet, cupping Blaine’s face so that he could kiss him, tender and close, Kurt was utterly swamped in love. 

“Kurt,” Blaine whispered, voice laden with reverence, breaking with it. Kurt closed his eyes because he was dangerously close to crying, which was just stupid. “I love you.” Blaine said into Kurt’s sweaty neck. 

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt said. Blaine’s hair was still stiff with gel, but the shape of his skull felt somehow precious, like every bone in Blaine’s body was a revelation. Maneuvering Blaine’s face up, Kurt kissed him with the weight of every word he didn’t know how to say. After a bit though, Blaine began to squirm, and when he did, Kurt knew why because he became aware of how squelchy and weird and gross he was in his come soaked underwear. 

“Ummm,” Blaine said. “We should clean up.” 

“God I have to go home with no underwear,” Kurt said. “These jeans are so tight.” They were, and pushed half down to his thighs, without the high drive of need, they were incredibly constricting. 

“You could borrow some of mine,” Blaine said. His eyes didn’t quite meet his, and there was a shy lilt to his voice. 

“That’s-” Kurt swallowed, “that’s really kind of hot.” 

“Yeah?” Blaine looked at him then. 

“But for now…” Kurt said. Heat was rising back to his face. He couldn’t bring himself to clean himself up in front of Blaine, it felt….embarrassing. They’d not really even seen each other’s bodies and this wasn’t really how he’d pictured it happening for the first time. 

“How about we get under the covers and face away from each other?” Blaine suggested. Kurt’s sigh of relief was instant; he could tell Blaine was experiencing the same hesitation he was. 

“Alright,” Kurt said. As quiet as his voice was, it felt loud in the hush of the room and empty house. Blaine rolled off of him and they wiggled quickly and gracelessly under the covers. Kurt didn’t look at Blaine and hoped Blaine wasn’t looking at him. Under the safety of blankets and sheets, he shed his pants and then hesitantly, his underwear. He used them to wipe himself up, cheeks flaming and hands shaking the whole time. 

“Kurt?” Blaine’s hesitance was clear. 

“Yeah?” Kurt didn’t turn to Blaine; instead he stayed on his side, looking at Blaine’s room. Everything looked new to his eyes now. 

“Will you take off your shirt?” 

“ _Oh!_ Um,” Kurt closed his eyes. He understood Blaine’s fear when they’d begun -- without the unstoppable desire driving him, Kurt felt perilously exposed. But he wanted this closeness too. He wanted to be able to give in to that vulnerability, to share it with Blaine. 

He also wanted to see or feel Blaine naked. His own nudity was a lot more scary but he knew Blaine wanted it too. 

“Alright,” he said after a very heavy silence. He unbuttoned his vest slowly, fingers clumsy with nerves. The sheets pooled at his waist when he sat to shrug his shirt off, but he ducked back under them as fast as he could as soon as they were off. In the middle of his third calming and fortifying breath, the sheets pulled and rustled, then Blaine’s fingers were on his back. Kurt startled, body jerking; the touch was so unexpected. Blaine had said that Kurt always zigged when he thought he was going to zag. Kurt held back a giggle, because he often felt the same about Blaine. 

Settling his nerves, breathing into the solidity of his body, he tried to relax into the touch. Blaine’s fingers trailed down, just fingertips that traversed his shoulderblades and spine and to the base of his spine. Gasping, Kurt clutched the pillow under his head, because there seemed to be a surplus of nerves bundled there. Blaine’s touch set off a thundering, body shuddering wave of pleasure. 

It wasn’t hard then to turn over. Blaine’s fingers stayed on him as he did, trailing over his hip, cupping it, testing the curve of Kurt’s hip bone. His eyes were wide, wonder brighter than Kurt had ever seen. Blaine’s face was hot when Kurt touched his cheek and his lips trembled into the kiss they shared then. Incrementally they shifted closer and closer until Kurt’s leg was tentatively wedging between Blaine’s, until they were gasping into into each other’s mouths. 

More sure than he imagined he would be, Kurt curled his hands around Blaine’s thigh, high against the crease where his ass curved into leg. He couldn’t see much more of Blaine than shoulders and his chest and collar bone, but against him was nothing but skin, all of Blaine’s beautiful hot skin, his cock against Kurt’s a too-much pleasure. 

“You feel so good,” Kurt whimpered. 

“Yeah,” Blaine said through heaving breaths. His hips worked them together; it was awkward and they weren’t at all in sync, but Blaine’s strong thighs were rippling around Kurt’s and under his hand and every time their dicks touched it sent bursts of pleasure through him. 

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” Kurt whispered, shy and unsure. Blaine stopped moving to kiss him carefully. 

“Like what?” 

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” Kurt said. Blaine’s eyes were so dark, and his face was so open. Kurt bit his lip, took a breath and continued. “I was told that there were many ways to love someone, and that it would never stop, learning them. But I wasn’t expecting...I just couldn’t have known before this.” He felt silly, stupidly romantic and cheesy even saying it. 

“ _Kurt,_ ” Baine said. He tilted Kurt’s chin up with a soft hand and kissed him so gently it was hardly more than a whispered touch. “I didn’t either. But I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop.” 

“Me either,” Kurt said, this time not trying to hold back the shimmer of tears. 

“Then love me again, please” Blaine said, pulling Kurt as close as he could. “And it will be new.” Kurt shuddered and sighed and then kissed him, kissed him the whole way through, and the only thing in the world then was their bodies in that bed and this new world to map together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really quickly, I want to say -- the last time I tried writing a story in WIP style was Fade To Black. Which is so weird because this fic kind of revisits that particular moment in canon, but my take on it this time around was so different. With two more seasons of Klaine under our belts since I wrote FTB, I feel like I have a completely different understanding of Kurt and Blaine. It was a bit therapeutic, getting to write a version of them and visit that new era of their relationship knowing them better. 
> 
> I don't know that I like this whole thing, because I couldn't plan it out without knowing the prompts. It was an experience in letting go because I agonize over longer fic and it sits around for ages while I do the agony. Truthfully, I didn't like the experience. I think I prefer the agony, because my stories tend to take on lives of their own as I write them. They zig when I want to zag, which usually means I rewrite the front half before I post. I couldn't do this this time, so I was very arkkkkgghhh. My initial concept was more to have them explore but also involve friends and adjustments to the new relationship etc. I don't know that any friends made an appearance. Oops! 
> 
> For those of you who stuck through this, who supported this, and who were so encouraging. So much love -- J


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